


Shield You from the Waves

by halfsweet



Series: Parenthood AU [5]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Discrimination, Family, Family Fluff, Implied Mpreg, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14023884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: Brendon finally sees the struggles that carriers have to face.





	Shield You from the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stay away from this au too long gosh it just pulls me right back in like a black hole

Patrick's at Andy's store again, having to take over Joe's shift since Joe is out of town for the weekend. So, what was supposed to be one of their usual Saturday family outings at the playground is now, really, just him accompanying and watching over David, who is sprinting across the playground like an Energizer Bunny.

“David!” He calls out for his son as his breaths come out in huffs, trying to catch up with him and making sure he doesn’t get lost in the crowd of other small children. “David, slow down.”

“But Daddy!” David stops to look up at him, an adorable frown grazing his face as he points to a sandbox where a couple of other toddlers are playing and building castles. Which are just mounts of sand. “I wanna go there!”

“The sandbox isn't going anywhere.” He calmly says once he finally catches his breath, and he holds David's hand to make sure he doesn't run off again. “What if you fall and hurt your knee?”

David whines and tugs at his hand to get him to walk faster. “Hurry!”

He sighs and allows his son to drag him. He shouldn’t be this tired. His back is aching and his muscles are sore. For God’s sake, he’s only _twenty-five_ years old. He’s still in his mid-twenties, but _how_ is it possible that he feels like he’s _sixty?_

“Walk faster!” David demands, his brows furrowing in the middle.

He sighs again. _Right._ His son who, apparently, is unable to take a break for even a second.

Patrick is lucky that he’s not here right now.

_“Daddy!”_

“Okay, okay.” God, where were the times when his son was barely able to stand up without falling after a few times and, well, _not_ being a brat?

Once they reach the sandbox, David immediately lets go of him to sit at an empty spot in the sandbox. David’s scooping the sand towards him with a gleeful expression on his face, as if the sand were cookies. He can’t help but smile as he sits down on the dry grass, along with a couple of other parents.

Figuring that David is good for at least 30 minutes, he pulls out his phone to play some games to kill some time. The other parents are doing the same thing, but the more older ones are helping and playing together with their children.

It kind of makes him want to put away his phone and join David in the sandbox. After all, it’s a perfect moment for some father-son bonding time.

“Daddy, look!” David calls him with a beam. “I made dinosaur!”

He looks to where David is and laughs upon seeing his attempt of a sculpture of a dinosaur. He turns on the camera, quickly snapping a picture of a proudly-grinning David and a shapeless blob of sand between his legs. “Are you gonna name him?”

“Rocky. I wanna name him Rocky.” David answers before he returns back to creating another blob. “I’m gonna make him a friend!”

Huffing another laugh, he shakes his head and pockets his phone. It’s almost ridiculous how much or how long he can stare at David without feeling bored.

Is this the feeling of being a parent? Do all parents feel the same?

If they do, then he’s on the right track.

“Is that your son over there?”

He looks to the direction of the voice, and he smiles when he sees a young brunette, probably the same age as he is, bending down beside him. “Yeah, he is.”

“He’s so cute!” She gushes before turning to him and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Can I sit here?”

“Sure.” He scoots over to give her some space. Although, a small part of him is wondering why she wanted to sit down on the prickly grass when there’s an empty bench just a few feet away? He shrugs the matter off and returns the smile the brunette gives him.

“What’s his name?” She asks, then giggles. “He’s so adorable I couldn’t stop staring at him since he dragged you here.”

He shakes his head and huffs out a laugh. “His name’s David. He can be pretty bossy sometimes. Just like his Mama Bear.”

“Oh? Your wife?”

“No.” He smiles before lifting up his hand. “No ring, so not married. But he’s my boyfriend.”

The brunette looks a little disappointed, but soon after she leans in close—a little _too_ close—as her eyes sparkle. “Did you two adopt him?”

He stares at her and scoots back a few inches to put some space between them, a little weirded out. What’s her problem? “No, he’s ours.”

“So…” The brunette falls into a short silence, her brows knitted together in the middle like she’s trying to figure something out. Then, she looks up at him. “You mean, like, David’s from your previous relationship?”

“No,” he repeats. Now he’s officially freaked out by her. “He’s ours. We didn’t adopt him, he’s not from my previous relationship, and he’s not from my boyfriend’s previous relationship.”

This time, the brunette gapes at him for a good few seconds before she scrunches her nose, eyes narrowing in the slightest. “So your son came from a _carrier?”_

Why does she say it like that? “Uh, yeah.”

“Wow. I have to go.” She stands up and dusts herself off, but right as she walks away, he hears her mutter, “Disgusting. Can't believe I called a carrier’s child cute.”

Really? People are only disgusted because he’s in a relationship with a _carrier_ and not because he’s in a relationship with a _man?_

He frowns and looks to where David is, but not before noticing the glances some of the nearby parents shoot him.

He ducks his head, embarrassed under their stares and whispers.

What’s wrong with being a carrier?

-

“Mama Bear!” David calls out when they arrive back at the apartment. Patrick pops his head from the kitchen with a bowl of ice-cream in his hand—no doubt with a squeeze of lemon mixed with the ice-cream.

“You're back!” Patrick beams and leans down to pick up a running David into his arm.

“Mama Bear!” David wraps his arms around Patrick's neck. “You're back!”

Patrick snuggles him close and pecks him on the cheek before pulling back, scrutinizing him up and down as he places the ice-cream bowl down on the counter. “You’re filthy. Did you play in the sandbox again?”

“I made Rocky!” David answers with a grin, then turns around to look at him. “Right, Daddy?”

Still distracted, he gives Patrick a half-hearted smile and ruffles David’s hair. “Yeah. He made some friends for Rocky. He even made a new friend himself.”

Patrick eyes him, worried and suspicious before giving his attention to the toddler in his arm. “Come on. Let’s get you a bath.”

“Bubbles?” David asks, excitement clear in his voice as Patrick carries him to the bathroom. He’s still standing in the same spot, heart feeling heavier than before. Watching Patrick all happy and content makes him wonder if it’s all just a mask from what he has to deal on a daily basis— people looking at him like he’s an abomination or treating him like a stray animal.

He mindlessly walks to the bathroom and leans against the door frame, watching Patrick attempt to get the dusty clothes off of their son. David’s wiggling around, laughing and being silly, which, in turn, cause Patrick to laugh along with him.

A dull ache clenches at his chest. How could people discriminate and be so judgmental towards carriers? They’re just like everyone else, like every other male, except they can get pregnant. But other than that, they're the same. They're humans with feelings and emotions, too.

“You okay?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and sees Patrick looking up at him. David’s already sitting in the tub and playing with his toys as water begins to fill up the tub. “Yeah. What about you? Did anything happen?”

Patrick shakes his head as he reaches for the bath soap at the edge of the tub to pour into it. “Nothing. Everything's the usual. A little boring, though. Next time I'm asking Andy if I can bring you and David along.”

He would have smiled at that if his mind weren’t occupied with the conversation he had at the park. Patrick seems to notice the change, and his forehead begins to crinkle in worry. “Brendon?”

“Did they do anything to you?” He asks, pushing down all the uneasiness in his chest.

“Who?”

He fidgets in his spot and clears his throat. “Anyone. The parents. The customers. Did they do anything?”

Patrick hums as he begins to wash David. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs and looks down, staring at his feet. “Saying stuff or something. Or looking at you wrong.”

Patrick turns to him, confused. “Brendon, what suddenly brought this on?”

“Mama Bear.” David whines and splashes in the tub to get his attention. “Don’t stop.”

“Right. Sorry.” Patrick goes back to bathing David, but his curious gaze stays on him.

“Nothing.” He mumbles.

Maybe it's just a one-time thing. Most people are nice, anyway.

Right?

-

They’re at the grocery store, stocking up their fridge. He’s been taking a second job—as a part-time cashier at a local shop—ever since Vicky confirmed Patrick’s pregnancy. After David was born, he realizes just how much money they had to spent on him and that they were lucky enough that their friends and families were there to help to buy the necessities, so he figures that it’s better to prepare and start saving now.

Although, almost half of his second job’s pay for that month goes to buying Patrick’s food cravings.

And David’s, unfortunately.

“Little Bear, you already have cookies at home.” He explains patiently to the toddler sitting in the cart he’s pushing while Patrick is in the fruit’s section—no doubt picking up some lemons.

“But Mama Bear gets food.” David whines as he shakes the handle of the cart. “I want food too!”

“That’s because Mama Bear will throw me out if I don’t buy him food.”

“But Daddyyyyyyyy.”

“No.” He taps on David’s nose, who pulls back and pouts.

“But Daddyyyyyyyy.”

“The answer is still no. I can do this all day, Little Bear.” Being the youngest sibling, he certainly learned a lot from getting bullied by his older brothers when they were kids. He never thought the experience would come in handy when it comes to dealing with his own son. “If you finish the cookies at home, I’ll buy you new ones, okay?”

“And mini pretzels?” David looks up at him, his brown eyes hopeful.

“Only if your Mama Bear says you can.” He smiles down at David. How can he resist those eyes and face? “Now, where’s your Mama Bear?”

David twists in his seat and points to a direction. “There. Lemons. Hurry!”

He begins pushing the cart in Patrick’s direction, purposefully taking his time because he knows, in any second, David will tug at his arm to get him to go faster.

“Daddy, hurry! We’re gonna lose Mama Bear!”

“We are not going to lose Mama Bear.” He smiles when David pulls his hand. As he says it, Patrick takes a few steps to the right to browse for more lemons.

David makes a distressed noise. _“Hurry!”_

Before David can actually tear his arm off, he makes a beeline to where Patrick is. Patrick’s still searching for those yellow citrus, and he kind of wants to laugh when he sees five lemons in the plastic bag he’s holding. “What, five isn’t enough?”

Patrick glares at him. “I blame you. If you hadn’t gotten me pregnant, I wouldn’t have to buy the lemons.”

“If I remember correctly, _someone—_ ” he pokes Patrick in the chest playfully and smirks, “—mentioned about wanting five kids?”

Patrick's face turns red in an instant. “Shut up. Lemons are a small price to pay.” Then, he rubs his bump, pouting. “Besides, the baby wants lemons. I can't just say no.”

He opens his mouth to say something back, but then a group of people is walking past them and giving them side-eye glances.

Scratch that. They're giving _Patrick_ the side-eye glances.

“Did you see that?” They murmur among themselves as they walk away. “He’s a seahorse.”

His blood boils at the sound of their snorting laughter, but he pushes it down and clenches his jaw to avoid from bursting and making a scene in public. He turns to look at Patrick, and a heavy feeling sinks in his stomach upon seeing the drop in Patrick’s expression and the hurt in his eyes.

But he’s still smiling in front of their son like he didn’t hear what the group of people said about him.

“You wanna leave now?” He asks, voice soft.

Patrick shakes his head, still smiling. “I still need to get the tomatoes. You’re making pasta this weekend, remember? Don’t try to get out of it.”

Somehow, Patrick’s smile only breaks his heart. This is what Patrick has to endure daily, but he still comes home with a smile on his face. He’s still the happiest person he knows. Still joking around and pretending like the slurs thrown to him don’t bother him.

“I won’t.” There’s already a lump in his throat, but he swallows it down. If Patrick can be strong for and in front of their son, then so can he. He takes a step closer to Patrick and presses a quick kiss to the side of his head, earning a questioning look from the other. “I mean it. I won’t get out of anything. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

-

After dinner and putting David to bed and retreating back to bed, he can't seem to forget the incident that happened at the grocery store. The door is left slightly ajar and the light in their bedroom is on, and he rolls onto his side to look at Patrick, who's staring up at the ceiling.

“You okay?” He asks as he tangles their hands together.

Patrick nods, but it doesn't do a good job at convincing him. “Just tired.”

“You wanna talk about what happened at the store?”

“It's fine. I'm used to it.”

He sighs and pulls Patrick on top of him so he's lying on his chest. “Does it happen often?”

“Yeah.” Patrick answers, voice muffled by his shirt. “I wish they would just stop. I mean, if they have nothing nice to say, then don't say anything.

“People won’t stop treating us like— like we’re something disgusting. Like we’re trash. There were many times when I wish weren’t one, but after David, I wouldn’t change anything about myself. They can treat me however they want to, but—” Patrick tilts his head up and smiles at him, “—as long as I have you and David, I can handle anything.”

“That, and I’m pretty sure Pete and Gerard will be the first in line to snap anyone’s neck for even thinking about it.” He chuckles as he caresses the bump on Patrick’s stomach.

“That too.” Patrick laughs. “The guys have also been very supportive, and I owe them a lot. They make me feel normal.”

“You _are_ normal.”

“As normal as a biological male human who can get pregnant can be.” Then, Patrick falls into silence, fingers tracing random patterns on his chest. “Do you think David is one?”

He rakes through Patrick's hair. Is David a carrier? “I don’t know.”

“To be honest, I hope he isn’t one. I don’t want him to go through what I had to.”

“What if he is?”

“I don’t know. I think about it everyday. I’m scared people will treat him horribly.” Patrick confesses. “What if one day, when he returns home from school, there are bruises and wounds everywhere on him and it’s bec—”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there.” He places a finger on Patrick’s lips to stop him from going down further in the worst case scenario for their son. “We don’t know if he’s a carrier yet. And unless he has a baby growing inside him, people won’t know he’s a carrier. He’s going to be fine until then.”

Patrick’s chewing on his lower lip, looking not at all convinced but more worried instead.

He sighs and places a hand on his hip to pull him close. “How did you find out you’re a carrier?”

“My parents took me to the hospital to get tested.” Patrick starts as he plays with the hem of his shirt. “It’s pretty customary for families who have sons to get a test to find out.”

“How old were you then?”

“Around seven or eight.”

He’s quiet for a while. Is it possible to… “How old do you have to be to get tested?”

“At least one year old, I think. Why?”

“Hear me out, okay?” He pushes Patrick down gently as he sits up to look at him. Patrick nods, curious. “We can get David tested while he’s still young. That way, if he really is a carrier, when he grows up, he won’t remember that he is one. He can live his life like any other kid without worrying what others will think of him.”

“So,” Patrick furrows his brows, “you want to keep it a secret from him if the test turns out to be positive?”

He scratches his the side of his neck. Keeping a secret _that_ big from his son for the rest of his life? “Until he’s old enough? Eighteen, maybe? But hey, the odds of him being a carrier is one in four. That’s low, right?”

“Still high.” Patrick mumbles as his forehead seems to crease even more.

“You just worry about the little cub inside there, Mama Bear.” He teases Patrick to ease up the atmosphere. It’s too tense and negative and bad for the baby. “Let Papa Bear worry about everything else.”

Patrick rolls his eyes, but there’s an unobstructed fondness behind it. “You’re young, you know. The only thing that you should be worrying about is whether you’ve already paid your bills.”

“Yeah, well, I’m twenty-five and already have my own family.” He retorts back. “I think I can worry a little more than about paying my bills.”

Patrick gives him a half-hearted smile as he cups his face, thumb caressing against his skin. “I don’t think I've ever apologized about everything. You weren’t supposed to have all this responsibility while you were still in college. I feel like I’ve taken away so many experiences from you.”

He returns his smile and places his hand atop Patrick’s, squeezing gently. “It’s fine, really. You gave me a lot of new ones in return. I mean, you didn’t just give me the experience of parenthood, you also gave me a _human._ Like, an _actual_ human that has _my_ DNA—”

“And mine.” Patrick reminds him, pinching his cheek.

“—and not just _one_ human. We have _another_ one on the way. That is way more than I can ever ask for.” He finishes with a soft kiss, gentle and languid as their lips brush over one another.

“You know I couldn't have done it without you, right?” Patrick grins, cheeky, as his eyes sparkle in mischievousness under the light.

He laughs and rests his hand on Patrick’s small bump. “I can't wait to see Tiny Bear. They’re going to be so adorable like me.”

“No.”

He blinks. They both blink. Once. Twice. Then, they look down at the foot of the bed, seeing a mop of dark hair and tiny fingers grabbing at the mattress edge. “Mama Bearrrrrrrr. Help.”

“Looks like he's out of his den.” Patrick huffs out in amusement before scooting towards the edge to help David, who immediately swings his legs and lets out a happy squeal as he gets pulled up onto the bed.

“Again! Again!”

Patrick hums, pretending to contemplate. “I think I’m gonna save some for Tiny Bear.”

David frowns up at Patrick after he crawls to snuggle between them. “ _Little_ Bear.”

“ _You're_ Little Bear.” He interjects with a grin, then points at Patrick's stomach, which is already showing a little. “And _that's_ Tiny Bear.”

“No.” David pushes his hand away from Patrick's stomach with the ever adorable pout on his face. “No Tiny Bear. Only Little Bear.”

“You don't want to be Tiny Bear’s brother?”

“No!” David shouts and rolls over to Patrick, one hand protectively clutching to Patrick's shirt over his torso as he attempts to glare up at him.

Which looks as fierce as a kitten.

“Only Little Bear! Me! No Tiny Bear!”

“Keep telling yourself that, Little Bear.” He laughs and pulls David close to him, which requires some effort on his part since David is clinging on tight to Patrick's shirt.

David's still protesting in his arms, whining and rambling to the point that his face almost resembles a tomato. He just laughs again and relishes at the feeling of being close with his two favourite people—soon to be three.  
  
His list of things to worry about has grown longer—whether Patrick will survive this second pregnancy, whether the baby will be born healthy, and whether David is a carrier—but right now, they’re pushed to the back of his mind as David's voice and Patrick's laughter fill his ears.


End file.
